


Love Me S'more

by heyitscmei



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Camping, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Road Trips, Sharing A Tent, Sheith Big Bang 2017, Stargazing, its like sharing a bed minus the bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitscmei/pseuds/heyitscmei
Summary: “I think you’d enjoy it.”“And if I don’t?”“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”Shiro had smiled at him then, self-satisfied in the knowledge that, like Keith knows Shiro, he knows Keith just as well.“I’d enjoy it more if you were there though.”And really, how could Keith have said no to something like that?---When the squad hits the road for a short vacation in the great outdoors, distractions, routine and life fall away long enough for Shiro and Keith to confront their feelings.What better way to bond than sharing a tent in the woods with barely anybody around?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> did i really make the title a pun, yes i did  
> anyways iTS FINALLY DONE  
> i still cant believe it but here it is  
> this is the longest thing ive ever written in my life ~~never again~~
> 
> Big thanks to my artist Sen for being so patient with me!  
> go check out the amazing art they made [here](http://dork-sen.tumblr.com/post/165292461517/so-heres-the-piece-i-did-for-heyitscmeis-fic)!
> 
> thank you Robert for running the event and all the encouragement you provided while i was writing this thing  
> and Psy and Saru for looking it over and catching all the mistakes and typo's my sleep-deprived self made  
> and everyone else who listened to me whine while i was writing this lmao
> 
> i hope yall like it and please, let me know what you think in the comments, id love to hear your thoughts <3  
> [Retweet here!](https://twitter.com/heyitscmei/status/907788221945282561) || [Reblog here!](http://heyitscmei.tumblr.com/post/165292660126/heres-my-piece-for-the-sheithbigbang-creating)

Buildings that look only vaguely familiar blur as Keith yawns, the motion of the van slowly lulling him to sleep and threatening to send him into full unconsciousness any minute.

“Tired?” Shiro asks around a smile, turning down the sound of the radio hosts and early morning gossip that Keith doesn’t really care about.

“I dunno if you noticed,” Keith mumbles, eyes closing, “but it's like . . . the ass crack of dawn . . .” He lazily gestures at the digital display, indicating just how early it is, not really caring whether Shiro glances at it or not.

“You seemed pretty awake earlier.”

“Last minute packing,” he says because that’s all that really needs saying. Keith’s head thumps lightly against the window as he slumps to the side with a sigh.

“You’re going to have the worst neck pain later,” Shiro comments. Keith feels the car turn a corner and hums in acknowledgement, refusing to move. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“‘Kay.”

Shiro doesn’t respond with much more than a laugh and Keith smiles sleepily, drifting to the sound of Shiro humming along to a catchy pop song he doesn’t know the name of.

When Keith next opens his eyes, he has to squint at what little light the sky has started to offer outside his window. Brain catching up with his body, he takes note of a few things. One, that they’re in Allura’s neighbourhood and, as such, he has not been asleep for as long as he feels he’s been. Two, that his neck hurts. Three, that if he mentions this, Shiro will absolutely tell him he’d told him so and, no, he is not giving Shiro that satisfaction.

He thinks Shiro can tell anyways from the way he winces and groans when he straightens.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Shiro teases, pulling into Allura’s street. Keith doesn’t really remember when Shiro started using that particular term of endearment, joking as it is, but it sends butterflies through his stomach nonetheless. He blinks away the grogginess and has half a mind to feel embarrassed, but Shiro isn’t looking at him anyway, eyes glued to the road.

Keith can't help the way he stalls, caught up in admiring the planes and lines that make up such a handsome profile, before remembering that he should probably respond.

“Mornin’,” he mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face and opting to try and ignore the pet name. He's failing, but he ignores that too. If he really wanted, he could ask Shiro to stop. It'd certainly spare his stomach the acrobatics. However, the part of him that still wants to be selfish doesn't want Shiro to stop.

Well, it's not as if he's bothered by it.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to dwell on it long. Shiro rolls down the window as they pull up in front of Allura’s home, large and white with a freshly trimmed green lawn and the kind of garden Keith sort of wishes he could grow himself. It's pretty much the picture definition of a perfect home—or what he imagines would be considered perfect—and he knows Allura must have fussed over every detail to maintain that level of perfection. It definitely shows.

He banishes the thoughts of getting a house with Shiro—raising a garden and debating curtain colours—before he can invest too much into them. They're fine with what they already have; a two bedroom apartment and a solid, close friendship. It's enough. Really.

No matter his selfish desires and his stupid hope, it has to be enough.

The others are already there, scattered around out front, waiting for them. As soon as they’ve come to a full stop, the others come to greet them, hefting their bags and popping the trunk open to load up.

Pidge clambers into the van before the others do, yawning as she drops heavily into one of the available seats. Keith yawns sympathetically and blinks, trying to bring the world back into focus as he scrubs at an eye.

“Why are we doing this again?” Pidge mumbles, moving some of the snacks from the floor to make leg space.

“Something about team building, Allura’s idea, disconnecting from the world . . .” Keith trails off.

“It could be fun,” Shiro tries. Keith grunts out a sound that could possibly be agreement, but could also be interpreted as _shhh_ in equal measure. Shiro laughs at him again.

Pidge mimics his grunt in obvious agreement.

“It will be fun, you’ll see,” Allura insists, moving from Shiro’s window to claim her own seat inside. “And you will thank me for it later.”

It’s only going to be a short road trip and the camping trip isn't going to be very long either, only a handful of days, and Keith still isn't quite sure how he feels about the whole thing. He isn’t sure how appealing the idea of being crammed into a single vehicle with five other people for hours sounds—especially when Lance on his own can be the equivalent of three—but maybe the camping trip will be better. There's at least a certain appeal to being surrounded by nature and fresh air and Keith doesn't have any particular qualms about going without a proper bed for a few days. There will be peace and quiet and—he slides his gaze to his left, unbidden—Shiro will be there.

A small part of himself, the hopeful part, reminds him that Shiro had actually been the one to convince him to go on this trip. That he hadn't gone because Shiro would be there so much as he'd gone because Shiro _wanted_ him to be there. The affirmation, no matter how unintentional, that Shiro enjoys his presence is what keeps the hopeful part of him stubbornly hoping—even through the blaring alarms and warning signs that tell him how bad of an idea it is to fall in love with your best friend.

_“I think you’d enjoy it.”_

_“And if I don’t?”_

_“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”_

Shiro had smiled at him then, self-satisfied in the knowledge that, like Keith knows Shiro, he knows Keith just as well.

_“I’d enjoy it more if you were there though.”_

And really, how could Keith have said no to something like that?

With their bags crammed in the trunk and the free space of the floor, Hunk and Lance settle themselves in the back. When Keith warns them to watch out for his guitar—he isn’t sure why they had all convinced him to bring it, but damn if he isn’t going to make sure it survives the trip in one piece—Hunk shoots him a thumbs up, making sure it's safely settled.

Bidding farewell to Allura’s uncle, Coran, they start to pull away, eager to finally hit the road.

There’s a lot of chattering as everyone settles in, various snacks being tossed around. Keith hears a yelp when a bag of chips acquaints itself with Lance’s face and the responding snicker that is unmistakably Pidge. He twists around to gesture at the cookies they’d brought along until Allura hands them to him. Shiro doesn’t ask for any when Keith opens the bag since he's driving, but Keith knows he'll want some later. He takes a few and reseals the bag, tucking it by his feet where the others can't get to it before Shiro can. He thinks there might be a smile curving Shiro's lips, but it's more likely his own wishful thinking.

He doesn't care if he's hogging them if it's for Shiro. It's stupid, but he doesn't care about that either.

A few hours or so into the drive finds just about everyone in varying states of consciousness. Allura is practically a statue in her sleep, contrasting the way Lance sleeps so restlessly; shifting enough that Keith would wonder if he were truly sleeping if not for the intermittent snoring. Hunk snoozes on, unperturbed, even as Lance's arm flings itself into his space. Pidge, meanwhile, is leaning precariously over the arm of her seat and Keith winces at how uncomfortable it looks. Still, Keith sort of wishes he could join them in the realm of sleep, but, as it is, he’s on navigation duty.

That's not really so bad, he supposes.

Keith guides them to the nearest gas station for a quick snack run and refuel, and the quiet that had settled over everyone like a blanket is pushed off when he twists and wakes the others up. Eventually shaking off the remnants of sleep, doors are thrown open and Hunk and Lance immediately race towards the gas station, Pidge and Allura following at a much more leisurely pace. Keith opts to stay behind with Shiro while he refuels, tempted to recline his seat and briefly close his eyes. Ultimately he decides against it.

Stepping out of the van treats Keith to a slight breeze and the smell of gasoline, but it’s not a scent he can say he particularly minds. He stretches out, grimacing in discomfort at the familiar pins and needles feeling of a limb having fallen asleep.

“Hey,” Shiro says, drawing his attention away from the prickling in his leg. It’s a welcome distraction and Keith swivels his head to look at him. “Something wrong?”

“Leg feels funny,” Keith responds, pushing hair out of his face and reveling in the feeling of cool air against his forehead. Shiro nods like he understands, face twisting in sympathy as he returns the nozzle and pays at the pump.

“Excited?”

Keith suspects Shiro’s asking out of genuine curiosity rather than looking for a way to fill the silence, so he doesn’t find the small talk as annoying as he figures he normally would. It's entirely possible, however, that he's less annoyed because it's Shiro. Keith finds there are far worse people he could converse with. He shrugs in response.

“Maybe.”

The door to the gas station opens in Keith’s peripheral and a glance reveals the others ambling out of the small store, snacks in hand.

“Well, uncertainty aside,” Shiro starts as they move to return to their seats, “I’m glad you came.”

Keith tries to act like such a simple admittance hasn’t completely robbed him of breath and whatever he had planned on saying next. They slide into their seats and Keith spares Shiro a glance.

“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

The back door of the van opens and Keith prepares himself for the trip ahead and, yeah, maybe he is looking forward to it after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The trip feels longer than Shiro knows it actually is. Staring out the window from the back seat, he notes that there isn't much to look at beyond trees and the occasional small stream. Still, there’s something inexplicably gorgeous about it. It’s complex in a way that isn’t often experienced in the city; all crooked branches reaching skyward and jagged mountain peaks—distant, but not as far away from here. If anything, it's far more picturesque than what the city has to offer.

He hears Hunk quietly navigating for Lance between debating the pros and cons of flying versus driving. Keith slumps onto his shoulder, deep asleep, and Shiro shifts automatically to accommodate him. He doesn't really think about it and there's probably something to be said for how comfortable this is for them—nevermind that the way Keith is leaning, sideways and bent at the waist, isn't the most comfortable position. Shiro has half a mind to join him in dreamland as he stares out the window, the trees blurring into a smudge of green, unfocused. Eventually, he closes his eyes. He doesn't make the conscious decision to lean his head onto Keith's, but he supposes there are worse places for his head to be.

Waking up, the first thing Shiro registers is how tired he still feels. The second is that Keith's head is still nuzzled comfortably on his shoulder. The third is that they've stopped. Initially, he's worried that they've run out of gas and couldn't reach a station in time. Or maybe they're having car troubles—unlikely as he thinks that'd be. Then Lance turns in his seat as best as he can, peering at them with bright eyes, and loudly declares they've arrived at their first destination.

"This doesn't look like a campsite," Pidge grumbles, groggy and unimpressed.

"That's because it's not, my dear Pigeon." Lance slides out of the van and throws the back door open with a flourish of his arm that is both unnecessary and entirely expected of him. "It's a tourist attraction! So wakey wakey sleepy-heads! Let's take some pictures!"

The only indication that Keith is awake is the subtle shift of his head against Shiro’s shoulder and a heavy exhale that sounds suspiciously like a sigh. It makes Shiro want to laugh, an urge born from the warm fondness he feels pooling in his belly. When Lance calls his and Keith’s names again—“I know you two are awake back there!”—and Keith slowly, almost reluctantly, shifts away from him, Shiro sighs instead. He misses the warmth almost as soon as Keith exits the van, granting Shiro only the briefest glance and a small, almost shy smile.

Stepping out of the van, Shiro is greeted by warmth on his skin and a slight, cool breeze. The others have assembled just a little ways away from the van and Shiro wanders over to join them.

"So what exactly are we doing here?" Keith asks.

"Isn't it obvious? We're sightseeing!" Lance says. He produces a small digital camera from his jacket pocket and gestures towards a railing and the mountains in the backdrop. "Now everyone line up!"

Exchanging glances with the others, Shiro shrugs and they amble over towards the railing. Pidge and Hunk, eager to take silly pictures and make memories, start getting in position. Shiro finds himself beside Keith yet again, as Allura counts down, having insisted on taking the picture so Lance could join in, telling them to say cheese and stop blinking. He can't help but glance towards Keith who is smiling slightly. It looks a little awkward in that way that forced smiles tend to look, but Shiro can't help the way he’s staring anyway, completely enraptured by the small curve of it at the corner and how, even now, he still thinks it's cute. He has never been good at resisting the charm of any of Keith's smiles, not a rarity, but not exactly common either. There's a flash in his peripheral, drawing his attention back.

Allura giggles then, looking down at the screen of the small digital camera with a fond smile.

"One more would be good, I think." Shiro meets her eyes just as her gaze flits up to him. She's still smiling as she says, almost teasingly, "Someone wasn't quite looking at the camera."

Shiro feels his face go faintly warm and he coughs. When she brings the camera back up to take another picture, he forces himself to keep looking at it, pasting on his own smile and hoping his cheeks aren't so obviously hot.

They take what feels like enough photos to fill up an entire photo album, all taking turns behind the camera so that everyone can be in some silly shots. They take enough photos for Keith to get sick of being in them, grumbling about how he can't believe they haven't already filled up the camera's memory.

"Even if we fill it up, I still have a spare card just for situations like this," Lance assures.

"Great," Keith responds dryly. It's pretty clear that he doesn't find the prospect of taking enough group photos and selfies to fill two memory cards great at all. Shiro wants to laugh when Lance's only retort is to pull him in for an unwilling selfie.

Afterwards, Keith opts to take the rest of the photos—anything to not have to be in them—until Lance finally takes the camera back, content. Shiro peers over Lance's shoulder as he scrolls through each photo so far. His eyes wander towards Keith in each one, unbidden, and he has to bite back a smile at the way Keith's smile starts looking progressively more genuine with every picture taken—up until he stops showing up in them altogether. He finds he's mildly disappointed by that.

They scroll back through the pictures again and Shiro is only slightly embarrassed at seeing the way his face had softened so much in the first one, staring at Keith with so much affection he wonders how Keith isn't already on to him. Forgetting his own face for a moment, he trails his eyes back to Keith's and, well, the camera never really did him justice, but Shiro is still transfixed.

He hopes Lance plans on sending them all copies.

By the time they all file back into the van, it's Allura’s turn to drive and Pidge takes up navigation. Not one of them are feeling particularly tired anymore. Not now, anyway. So it's not surprising when Lance complains about being bored once they're back on the road, only a few minutes later.

There's only minimal bickering before everyone finally settles on a game to play.

And then another.

And another.

Shiro isn’t sure how they managed to play a proper game of Truth or Dare when their mobility is more or less limited to their seats, but they had, somehow. He doesn’t think he’ll ever question Lance or Hunk’s creativity again.

Never Have I Ever, predictably, devolves until everyone’s trying to single people out and nab the win. Shiro isn’t sure whether he should be impressed or concerned by how  _ well _ Pidge knows Hunk and Lance and vice versa—he’s learned more about his friends than he’d ever bargained for.

"I spy with my little eye . . . something that is green," Pidge says, making a show of squinting out the window.

Shiro doesn’t think he’d classify I Spy as a particularly interesting game, but they’re beginning to run out of options so he figures that this is as good a game as any.

"That isn't fair!" Lance protests. "Half of the entire view is green!"

"Then you’re just gonna have to guess."

As they bicker, Shiro’s gaze strays toward his quiet companion, asleep again in what had surely been an attempt to tune out the energy of their louder company—and avoid the games. He’s sure he hasn’t been looking for very long, but it’s long enough for Lance to have to call his attention back to the game at hand.

"Shiro stop making googly eyes at Keith and get your head in the game!"

There's a protest falling out of his mouth as he turns his attention back towards the others and, before they can retort, he says, "Pidge spied the green of her own shirt."

Pidge squawks. "How did you know?!"

The game is forgotten as they launch into a debate about Shiro and his potential psychic abilities. Allura doesn't partake, letting Hunk, Lance and Pidge go at it on their own, but when Shiro catches her eye briefly in the rearview mirror, he thinks the look she’s got on her face can only be described as ‘knowing’. He rolls his eyes even though her attention is already gone.

Shiro resists the urge to swipe hair out of Keith's face and settles in for the rest of drive.


	3. Chapter 3

It's after only a few potty breaks and snack runs that they finally arrive at the campsite.

It's not a bad site. Not completely out in the middle of nowhere, but far away enough from most civilization to still offer that peace and seclusion they'd initially sought out when planning this little trip. Checking in at the front, they find themselves driving past other campers—unsurprising given that it's a community campsite—and heading for the lots that they'd booked. Soon, everyone is stumbling out of the van, legs asleep and joints stiff.

"We're finally here!" Hunk cries, arms thrown above his head as he stretches and shakes out his limbs.

The grass is a deep green beneath Shiro's feet and looks soft enough to lie on. He takes in the trees surrounding them and the other campers who pay them no mind, lost in their own activities. He pauses to breathe in the fresh air. There's only the smell of grass and barbeque and Shiro loves how refreshing it all feels.

There's the sound of the back of the van being pulled open and the shuffle of bags being moved. Luggage and camping gear hit the ground with soft, muted thuds. The first order of business is to set their tents up and so Shiro isn't the least bit surprised when Keith comes up beside him, hefting the tent they plan to share for the entirety of this trip.

"Ready?" Shiro asks.

"Yes, sir," Keith responds. It's an offhand response, innocent enough, and Shiro chides himself for the way it sends heat spiralling through him for one fleeting moment. Shiro hopes that the flush of warmth over his cheeks isn't noticeable and he coughs gracelessly, reaching for the bag, eager to give his hands something to do.

They eventually find a spot they deem good, flat enough for them to lie on comfortably at night. Laying the tent out, they remove the poles from the bag and Shiro quickly shows Keith how to assemble them, thankful that it's not a particularly hard task.

Of course, tapping Keith’s backside with the pole when he turns is completely unintentional. Laughing nervously when Keith turns to him, brows furrowed in confusion and cheeks slightly pink, Shiro quickly swings the pole away and gives him a hurried apology.

Keith kneels at the other end of the tent and, together, they guide the first pole through the flaps. It isn't a big tent, so it's not much of a hassle to get everything in place, the two of them sliding the second pole into its proper place. Shiro has Keith raise one pole while he does the other and, settling the tips into the corners, they manage to get the tent standing upright. As Shiro drives the pegs into the ground, Keith seems to just watch him do so for a moment—and Shiro wonders if hammering tent spikes into the ground is really so interesting to someone who's never pitched a tent—before he appears to remember the rain tarp in his hands and slides it over the top of the tent.

"We did a good job," Shiro says moments later, carelessly tossing their sleeping bags and a few blankets through the open flap. Keith is knelt inside, attempting to arrange their sleeping space. He grunts and scowls when a pillow hits him. Shiro only smiles unapologetically before pointedly lobbing the next few pillows inside in quick succession.

Peering into the small space reminds Shiro of how close they'll be sleeping, and seeing Keith knelt inside makes the tent seem even smaller. It feels as if there is this certain intimacy in sharing a sleeping space and his heart swells just a bit at the thought that Keith is comfortable enough to do so with Shiro, even if only platonically. Another tent would not have been hard to manage, but Keith had voiced no protests over sharing a tent with him and, knowing Keith, that is as good a confirmation that Keith has no protests at all.

Keith nods at him once he's finished arranging their respective sleeping spaces and Shiro is treated to another one of those small smiles he's started to really love.

"Not as good as our apartment, but it's as good a home away from home as any," Shiro says as Keith crawls back out to join him under the sun.

"It's great." Keith agrees. He looks like he wants to say more, maybe, but can't quite think of what. He doesn't get the chance to figure it out since Lance is soon yelling at them in his approach.

"We might've been beat this time, but me and Hunk won't lose when we take the tents down later!"

Keith's brows furrow as he and Lance start to bicker.

"Hunk and I are  _ clearly _ the superior team!"

"Then why did we finish putting our tent up first?"

Shiro smiles to himself and buries the giggle he feels bubbling up behind his ribs. He thinks about making a good team and the wistful part of himself whispers:  _ maybe more, someday. _

But being a good team, good housemates, good friends . . . it will have to be enough.

Later, after the tents are pitched and everyone has more or less settled into some activity to keep them occupied, Shiro seeks Keith out. He’s not hard to find, given that not one of them strayed far, so Shiro finds him sitting on the ground nearby, fingers threaded through blades of grass as he leans back on his hands.

He settles next to Keith, who automatically shifts and straightens up. They’re close enough to knock shoulders, so Shiro does.

“What’s up?” he asks. Keith snorts and nudges him back.

“Sitting in the grass, clearly,” Keith says, tone lacking the sharpness it might have normally carried. “That all you came to ask?”

“What makes you think I wanted to ask you something?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No,” Shiro admits, grinning. “Wanna take a walk with me?”

Keith goes quiet as if considering, observing their surroundings. “Where’re we walking?”

“Look around the camp? Maybe explore beyond the tree line a bit?” Shiro shrugs. “I’d appreciate the company.”

“You don’t have to convince me, I’ll go.”

Keith pulls himself up off the ground and Shiro follows, ambling toward the dusty trail. Keith falls into step beside him easily and, as they wander down the path, Shiro finds himself distracted by the way their steps have briefly fallen into sync. It doesn’t last, because Keith’s strides are just a bit shorter, and Shiro looks back up.

The silence is amiable and Shiro focuses on the dirt crunching subtly beneath their feet, the chirping birds, the couple playing fetch with their dog . . .

All of it falls away when they step a bit too close together and Keith’s fingers brush against the back of his own.

Then it’s gone in the same instant and Shiro’s finger twitches with the desire to reach for Keith—to join their hands and and see how well Keith’s fingers fit into the gaps between his own or see how well they wrap around his palm.

Keith’s hands are small, Shiro knows, so would his own hand engulf one of Keith’s? Would the tips of Keith’s fingers just barely curve around the side of his hand? Would—

His thoughts are interrupted because they find the pool. It’s nothing special, just a regular pool, but looking from behind the fence surrounding the area, it appears clean and well-maintained. Unsurprisingly, there are quite a few people milling about.

“A dip in the pool might be nice,” Shiro remarks. Keith frowns as if he disagrees. “Not now, but maybe if there’s any point where it’s emptier.”

Keith seems to agree with that, at least. There’s really no ignoring the way the sun beats down on their backs, the occasional breeze granting only the slightest relief.

They linger for a moment, just observing. A lady chides her child for running by the pool while the woman next to her chuckles, fondly exasperated, and sends the kid off with a warning. A family, Shiro thinks. There are plenty of them all over the place. He glances at Keith’s unreadable expression, unbidden.

“You okay?” Shiro asks, knocking against him gently.

“Yeah,” Keith responds after a moment. Then he turns to Shiro and smiles. It’s small, yet as bright as the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “I’ve got you.”

Shiro feels the warmth erupt beneath the skin of his cheeks and he opens his mouth only to close it a moment later, robbed of a response in the face of Keith’s honesty.

One would think he’d be used to that by now, but—

Keith, at least, seems to be embarrassed as well, cheeks pink and gaze turned away. He’s very rarely bashful over his own honesty—really the sight is quite charming—but Shiro is comforted by the fact that he isn’t the only one who seems to be worked up over a simple remark. It isn’t as if it’s a lie; he and Keith have been each other’s closest friend for more years than they can count on one hand.

“I—I mean I have all of you,” he amends. “You and the others are my family.”

“Right,” Shiro agrees. He smiles and reaches for the curve of Keith’s shoulder, placing a hand there and jostling him gently in hopes that the familiar gesture will alleviate some of their mutual embarrassment. “Well, let’s get going. If I stare at the water any longer I won’t be able to resist going for a swim.”

The path just takes them around the camp, so they eventually break off and wander through the trees. There’s a separate dirt path behind the tree line, one that doesn’t look intentionally made, but exists because of how often it’s traveled by.

There’s a different kind of peace here, sunlight filtering through the gaps between tree leaves and the crunch of rocks and dirt and twigs beneath his feet. They’ve wandered far enough that not another camper is in sight. It’s this, being alone, but not really, that Shiro was seeking.

That maybe they’ve both been seeking.

Keith is just a little ways ahead, staring up into the foliage. The shadows scattered over his skin move with the rustling leaves as a breeze blows past and Shiro is almost mesmerized by the sight.

Continuing their walk takes them down to a river, walking past the tree line and back beneath the sun.

“Don’t swim in it,” Keith says. It’s not what Shiro had been expecting and it pulls a laugh from him.

“I won’t.” Still, he wanders closer to where dry land ends, staring down at the ground. Finding what he’s looking for, he bends and picks up a rock, smooth and flat and nicely sized. Keith watches him, bemused, as he holds it between his thumb and middle finger, curving his index finger around the edge of it. Angling himself he bends his wrist back and then snaps it forward. The stone flies out over the water, sending out ripples as it hops one, two, three times before disappearing below the surface.

“How’d you do that?” Keith asks, awed. “Show me?”

So Shiro shows him how. Together they search for another flat stone, one that fits better in Keith’s grip—his hands are smaller, Shiro’s mind supplies in a way that would be helpful if the thought weren’t so terribly distracting—and he shows Keith how to hold it. Hands on Keith’s shoulders, he angles and allows his touch to linger a few seconds, before making himself let go. Keith mimics the stance Shiro had made earlier and Shiro comes back around to watch better.

“Then you just bend your wrist back,” Shiro instructs. Keith does so before snapping his wrist forward sending the rock flying.

It sinks the first few tries, plopping sadly into the water. Keith, ever determined, keeps trying until one stone soars over the water, hits the surface and jumps.

“Shiro, did you see that?!” he says, whirling on Shiro with bright eyes. It’s kind of adorable.

“I saw,” Shiro assures, unable to fight the smile spreading his lips. He wanders past Keith and kicks around some rocks, looking for more flat ones. “Let’s see who can send theirs further.”

“You’re on.”


	4. Chapter 4

When night falls, all there is to be heard is the sound of crackling fire and the low murmurs of the other nearby campers. The fire is warm as the cool air settles over the entire campground. Shiro retrieves some of the blankets from the tent and shuffles back to their seats by the fire. He hands one to Keith who takes it from him gratefully, wrapping it around his shoulders. They scoot a bit closer to the flames to feel the heat on their faces and Shiro finds himself distracted by the way the cool temperature has brought the barest flush to Keith's cheeks, tinting them a light pink.

They rub their hands together to keep warm and Shiro remembers the feel of Keith's hand in his, smaller than his own, and wishes that were a viable option for keeping warm at the moment.

They're busy enjoying the silence when the others pull up some chairs and join them, plopping down and leaning towards the fire's heat.

"Marshmallows?" Lance prompts. Hunk presents a few bags in response, distributing them so everyone can reach some. Unsurprisingly, Keith takes it upon himself to get some sticks ready for skewering marshmallows, taking out the knife he always keeps on his person and slicing the outer bark off of their sticks. He sharpens each to a point and soon everyone has a marshmallow or two hovering over the fire pit, the flames just barely licking at the sugary treats.

In an unfortunate turn of events, Shiro's marshmallow falls into the pit and dies a fiery death. Shiro takes a moment to mournfully watch the way it melts on the logs in the fire, blackened beyond recognition, but is jostled from his thoughts when another marshmallow swings into his vision. It's browned on one side and slightly burnt on the other, and he follows the stick to Keith's hand.

"What's this?" he asks. Keith rolls his eyes before leveling him with a small smile.

"It's a marshmallow," Keith says. Shiro can't help but smile back.

"Well, obviously. Why are you putting a marshmallow in front of my face?"

"It's yours." Keith makes no move to shift the treat away when he huffs a small, little laugh. "So stop staring into the fire and mourning your marshmallow."

Quirking a brow, Shiro eventually takes the stick and pops the whole thing into his mouth, savouring the gooey, sugary goodness on his tongue. He thinks that the fire isn't responsible for the warmth coursing through his belly because there is a whole bag of marshmallows sitting in Keith's lap and Keith still chose to give Shiro the one he'd been roasting.

"It's a little burnt," Shiro mumbles through his mouthful. Keith makes a face at him and laughs.

"And yours is completely covered in fire, so you can’t criticize. At least finish your marshmallow before you talk," he chides. Shiro makes a point to chew and swallow very exaggeratedly, but before he can open his mouth to retort, Hunk is challenging them to a game of chubby bunny. Initially, Keith opts to sit this one out until Lance taunts him.

The next few minutes finds them all sat around the fire with mouthfuls of marshmallows and Shiro thinks he's probably had enough sugar tonight to last him a few months when he finally spits out his mouthful.

Surprising nobody, Hunk wins, though more surprising is how Allura had been close to taking it.

"Damn, Princess," Lance says, impressed. "Who'da thought?"

Allura swipes her hands and grins like she knows a secret, and maybe she does because Shiro can only wonder how she managed to keep herself from turning into an overly sticky mess after that fiasco.

"I will never be able to look at another marshmallow again," Pidge groans, leaning back in her seat and letting her stick fall to the ground when it's dislodged from where it'd been leaning.

They don't get to sit and relax for very long, though, because soon, Lance is jolting upright in his seat, pointing a finger at Keith excitedly.

"You!!"

"Me?" Keith asks, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"You brought your guitar!"

"Yeah? You guys asked me to." Keith doesn't appear to understand Lance's train of thought and Shiro feels much the same. Hunk, however, does seem to catch on as he shifts upright.

"Campfire songs!" He and Lance exclaim at the same time. Allura hushes them, swatting Lance on the knee with a closed bag of marshmallows. She smiles at Keith, though, when she turns to him, as if she agrees.

"I think that sounds like fun," she says. Keith heaves a sigh and stands, ambling over to the van to grab his guitar case before making his way back.

In the end, they don't really sing many campfire songs—apart from Hunk, Pidge and Lance singing the CAMPFIRE song from Spongebob with much more enthusiasm and energy than Shiro currently feels he has. Though it _is_ funny, he worries the entire while that they're being disruptive and is quietly grateful that the night is still young and no complaints come their way. From there, they branch off to songs from the radio and songs that Shiro hasn't heard in years that he remembers Keith teaching himself to play on quiet weekends in their apartment.

He remembers Keith sitting on the couch or the floor, with a laptop and papers strewn around him—guitar chords for him to reference—back when the guitar was still new. He and the others had pulled together to get it for Keith as a birthday present along with extra strings, some picks and a nice case to hold it in. Keith had held it so reverently, staring at it all as if he couldn’t believe it was really for him. He’d looked to Shiro for confirmation and Shiro still remembers how brightly Keith had smiled when he’d nodded.

_“Happy birthday, Keith.”_

And Keith had cherished it and used it often. Determined to teach himself all the songs he’d ever wanted to play. It had been no small amount of pride that had made its home beneath Shiro’s ribs, listening as disjointed strums had turned into a tune over time.

Convincing Keith to sing with them—for them—is a production, but as the night goes on, he eases up enough to treat them to a song or two. Shiro lets the sound of his voice, rough in all the right ways, wash over him as he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. He thinks of all the times he'd gotten to hear Keith sing like this, convincing him to sing along to every new song he learned. Keith's voice is soft, taking each lyric slowly as his fingers dance over the strings, strumming and plucking, and Shiro relaxes, letting everything melt away. He thinks he could easily fall asleep to this, to the sound of Keith singing, sending him drifting into unconsciousness like a lullaby.

When Keith finishes, there's the sound of muted clapping from one of the other nearby campers and it causes the flush already high on Keith's cheeks to grow deeper. Their own little circle bursts into quiet applause, smiling and joking around while waiting for Keith to return as he puts his guitar away again.

The night continues on and ghost stories turn into anecdotes and embarrassing childhood memories, lead largely by Lance who has memory upon memory of embarrassing or funny stories about his siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. It's entertaining and Shiro is content to just let Lance talk, though he can't deny that his attention strays once in a while to his side where Keith sits, quiet and attentive, save for the occasional sarcastic remark.

It's after his fifth yawn, possibly his sixth, when the overall energy of their little group starts to wind down, staring quietly at the flames and slumped in their seats, waiting to see who will be the first to cave and prepare to retire for the night.

In the end, it turns out to be Lance, mumbling sleepily about how he'll need his beauty sleep to maintain his complexion.

The others also opt to get ready for bed in the next following minutes and Shiro stretches, ready to brush his teeth and turn in as well. Letting his arms fall back to his side, he looks over at Keith to find him practically asleep in his seat. He can't help the fond smile that spreads over his face at the sight. Standing and stretching out his legs, he moves closer and gently shakes Keith's shoulder until his eyes flutter back open. Keith blinks at him drowsily.

"Let's get ready to sleep?" Shiro suggests. He feels a bit bad about waking Keith, but a chair is no comfortable place to sleep and, as much as he would have loved to carry Keith into the tent and tuck him in, Shiro suspects that would be crossing a line. Keith yawns hugely before heaving himself onto his feet, clinging to the blanket he still has wrapped around him.

"'Kay." Without waiting to see if Shiro is following, Keith shuffles over to their tent and crawls in through the flap.

"Grab my toothbrush too?" Shiro asks, receiving a hum in response.

Shiro is grateful to be able to replace the taste of sugar with the minty taste of toothpaste and he almost has to remind Keith to actually brush his teeth rather than just stand there with his toothbrush in his mouth.

He imagines Keith is relieved to be able to finally lie down and rest by the time they crawl into their tent. Keith flops down, starfished over the blankets and Shiro almost wants to laugh.

"Hey now, you still have to share the space with me," Shiro says, picking up a pillow and gently smacking it against the back of Keith’s legs. Keith groans, as if he’s reluctant to move, so Shiro does it again. Eventually, Keith rolls and shuffles a bit, worming his sleeping bag out from beneath him and getting his legs inside. Shimmying down into it, he pulls it up to his chin. “All good?” Shiro asks, mildly amused.

Keith only hums tiredly.

Shiro goes to tuck himself in as well before pausing and throwing one of the blankets over Keith. “It’ll be cold in the morning,” he says by way of explanation.

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith mumbles. “Goodnight.”

Shiro doesn’t tuck Keith in, but he wants to, amongst other things.

Instead, he slides into his own sleeping bag, aware of the way Keith rolls so that they’re back to back, and tries not to imagine curling up against the curve of Keith’s back. It’d be so easy, too. He’d just have to roll over.

He doesn’t do that either.

Resurfacing from his thoughts, he hears the sound of Keith’s even breathing and counts the seconds between each inhale until he’s drifting off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

When Shiro wakes up the next morning, he's surprised by how warm he feels. He knows it's cold—can feel it in his toes—but he's not sure why that doesn't seem to extend to the rest of him. He has blankets, sure, but it doesn’t explain why, in spite of all of it, his feet still feel icy.

The mystery, however, is fairly easy to solve and the blood rising to his cheeks sends a warmth that chases away the cold clinging to his face. Keith is . . . close. A lot closer than when they'd both fallen asleep the night prior; of this, Shiro is absolutely certain. He hadn't fallen asleep with Keith's head nestled against his chest—he's sure that is something he'd remember—but that's where Keith is now, curled up against him like he belongs there. Soft hair tickles the skin of Shiro’s chin and he wants to rub away the itch, but he’s reluctant to move, afraid to jostle Keith.

He’s the very picture of warmth, cocooned in his sleeping bag and stealing most of the blankets for himself. Shiro would be jealous if he weren’t so preoccupied with the way Keith feels, comfortable and cozy, in his arms. His mind strays, thinking about a life where maybe he'd have this everyday, but he isn't sure what Keith would think about something like that. They're friends and Shiro would hate to throw that easy dynamic into imbalance with his feelings. It's not fair to Keith.

He promised he would stay. Even if it's just as a friend, that's enough. He recalls the way Keith had told him that he—and the rest of the crew—are family to him. His unwillingness to ruin something so  _ important _ is enough to convince him to move, reluctantly extricating himself from their bundle of blankets and warmth. Keith lets out a small and sleepy murmur, but thankfully doesn't stir and Shiro heaves a small sigh of relief.

The cool morning air is harsh against his bare arms and he quickly reaches for a hoodie, rushing to yank it over his head. His sleepwear will just have to suffice for the time being because there is no way he is going to bare that much skin when he's feeling this cold.

His arm is asleep from being underneath Keith and it only serves to remind him of things he wants but can't have. The way it feels to hold Keith becomes just the littlest bit harder to have stored in his memory.

The sound of the zipper cuts through the quiet murmuring, birds chirping, and fire crackling outside when Shiro opens the tent flap.

He pulls on his shoes and crawls out onto damp grass. The scent of food wafts towards him and he wanders automatically towards the fire where Hunk is grilling up breakfast. Burgers. Shiro's stomach growls at the smell—the sight—and Hunk smiles in understanding, sliding a fresh one off the grill into a bun and handing the paper plate to Shiro. Shiro takes it gratefully and meanders over to the picnic table where Lance and Pidge and, most importantly, the condiments are sitting. He doesn't linger there too long, opting to sit by the fire after he's content with the amount of ketchup and mustard on his burger. Allura nods from across the fire as he settles heavily into a chair.

He stares unblinkingly into the flames, allowing himself to space out as he soaks in the warmth, only coming back to reality when he hears the sound of the zipper again and sees Keith crawling out of the tent. His hair is a mess, more so than the norm, sleep-tousled and adorable and Shiro briefly wonders why the universe loves to test him.

Keith settles himself in the chair beside Shiro and takes the burger Hunk hands him with a huge yawn.

"Morning, Sunshine," Shiro says as per their usual song and dance. Keith doesn't miss a beat.

"Morning."

Shiro wants to say that the nickname is just friendly and teasing, but he knows it most definitely isn't when Keith smiles at him. It’s small and tired, but his expression automatically brightens with it. Shiro feels himself brighten, too. There's a lot more than just friendly teasing here, but as long as Keith doesn't seem to think so, Shiro supposes he can allow himself this. If only to take the edge off his affection.

Keith yawns again, blearily wiping at his eyes, and Shiro is overcome with the same fondness that makes him wonder time and again, how he's been subjected to this same sight over and over and managed not to let his affection spill too far out of control. It's a small mercy that Keith hasn't caught him staring and, with that thought, Shiro averts his gaze.

The fact that Keith remains oblivious this time as well feels like both a blessing and a curse.

Shiro has more or less come to terms with the fact that he may never get used to the way his heart soars and his stomach flips when Keith smiles or laughs; when their fingers brush or when he sees Keith on mornings like this, still a little sleepy, completely adorable.

His heart almost aches with the weight of his affections. When he makes Keith smile or laugh; when he can touch Keith so casually and know that it’s a privilege not many are afforded. When he still has enough reason to hope that one day, maybe they'll get there—even if he knows that day isn’t today or tomorrow and probably nowhere in the foreseeable future. But if Keith ever expresses the same interest . . .

Maybe it’s a useless hope, but he holds on to it anyways, not quite able to just let go in spite of everything he’s told himself.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good," Keith starts. He takes a bite of his burger and chews thoughtfully, "until I woke up and got cold."

Shiro nods because he understands, though he, at least, hadn't woken up completely freezing. Still, that's information better kept to himself. Their conversation doesn't progress much beyond that, evolving into something else entirely when Lance and Pidge make their way over to join the rest of them. 

As they shake off the post-wake up blanket of drowsiness, the group’s energy rises and the decision to take a swim is more or less unanimous—Keith is the only one who seems to hold any reservations, but he voices no protest. They head over as soon as the pool is meant to be opening, eager to milk the time they can have it to themselves before the inevitable flood of people rushes in.

The pool, when they arrive, is as empty as they’d hoped. Even Keith seems to brighten at the idea of taking a dip now that he knows they'll be doing so in relative peace.

Lance is the first one to leave the locker room, making for the pool at a speed just shy of running. Shiro, for his part, is more than happy to take his time and make sure the belongings he's leaving are secure within the borrowed locker.

When he does finally head out of the locker room, Shiro hears the unmistakable sound of splashing and squealing and shouting. Lance and Hunk are pushing wave after wave at each other while Pidge referees nearby. Her legs are dipped into the water from where she’s perched on the ledge and every now and then she kicks out and splashes Lance when it seems as if he's gaining the advantage.

“That’s cheating!” Lance protests.

“I never agreed to be an  _ unbiased _ referee.”

“I demand a new referee!”

Hunk splashes Lance directly after that, laughing. “If you keep complaining, you’re gonna lose!”

“I hate both of you!” Lance cries.

Keith, exiting the locker room shortly after Shiro, hovers uncertainly, as if he's unsure what he wants to do, before he walks over to the ledge where the water is a bit deeper. Shiro smiles and follows, clapping him gently on the back before launching himself into the water with a leap.

By the time he resurfaces, Keith has lowered himself to a sitting position, feet beneath the water.

"It's  _ cold _ ," Keith complains, kicking out a little.

"We'll just have to get used to it then," Shiro says. He splashes at Keith who jolts with a sharp gasp.

“Shiro, what the hell,” he complains, pouting.

Shiro can't respond with much more than a laugh, even as Keith kicks out and splashes him in retaliation. He’s still getting used to the cold of the water himself, but he supposes he deserves it, still laughing as he tries to shield himself from the onslaught of water.

“C’mon, you’ll barely feel the cold after a minute,” Shiro says, reaching for Keith and tugging gently at his arm. His fingers encircle Keith’s wrist completely and—he really isn’t sure what to do with that tidbit of information, but it’s  _ there _ and he surely won’t forget it anytime soon.

Hesitating for only a fraction of a minute, Keith hops down from the ledge, shuddering as cold water engulfs more of his body.

Shiro proposes that they just get it over with and dunk themselves beneath the surface. Keith seems reluctant, but nods anyways, steeling himself. When Shiro turns it into a bet to see who can stay under the longest, Keith is much more enthusiastic, not one to turn down a little competition. The look on his face is adorably determined and Shiro finds himself feeling breathless before they've even begun.

Shiro hopes the rush of cold is enough to make the warmth in his cheeks dissipate as he ducks completely beneath the surface.

He's not surprised when he's the first one to surface for air, but he blames that on the fact that Keith seems to have stolen the air from his lungs.

It's not so bad.

And when Keith does resurface, not too long after, he's grinning; beautiful and triumphant and Shiro finds himself feeling breathless all over again.

"Yeah! I won!" Keith cheers and Shiro is more than okay with ceding victory to him. His own personal victory is being the cause of such a smile, which is—terribly cheesy, he realizes, embarrassed by his own thoughts.

“I told you that you’d get used to it.”

Keith hums, brushing hair out of his face. “It’s nice like this.”

“Quiet?”

“Quiet,” Keith affirms. He hauls himself back out of the water, arms on the ledge and pushing himself up. Shiro’s about to warn him that he’ll get cold again, but the words don’t come because he gets distracted. Rivulets of water trickle down the expanse of Keith’s bare back and the slight muscle of Keith’s arms and Shiro’s mouth suddenly goes very dry. It takes all of his conscious effort to not trail his eyes down to Keith’s chest or the subtle definition of abs, now so very wet . . .

He snaps his gaze back up to Keith’s face.

“You’re going to get cold and then I’m going to splash you again,” Shiro warns, relieved at how he manages to keep his voice level.

“Yeah?” Keith quirks a brow.

“Yeah.”

When he splashes Keith, he swims away as fast as possible. There’s another splash as Keith jumps back into the water to give chase and they race to the other side of the pool.

“Not many places to run to, huh?” Keith smirks, a mischievous glint in those large, violet eyes.

Shiro’s response is lost to skin smacking water, the sound of a splash and his own laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

When Keith stirs, he's expecting to have to squint against the walls of the tents, illuminated by the morning light. What he gets instead is a dark tent. It's disorienting for a moment, because he can't see anything. He hears shuffling and he tenses, already half upright and ready to kick off the sleeping bag and sheets any moment. Blinking, he tries to let his eyes adjust to the dark and he's relieved to find that it's just Shiro.

"What're you doing?" he mumbles. Shiro looks up at him sharply, as if surprised, before sagging.

"I was hoping I wouldn't wake you up," He admits.

"Why? Where are you going?" Keith can't think of any reason Shiro would have to possibly want to wander around in the middle of the night.

"Bathroom," Shiro says simply, reaching out of the tent flap for his other shoe and yanking it on. He falls onto his butt when he loses balance and Keith is glad that the darkness obscures the smile he knows he's wearing.

"It's dark as fuck," Keith says, stating the obvious. Shiro picks something up off of the ground and waves it. Squinting, Keith can make out the shape of the flashlight.

"Coming?" Shiro asks. Keith stops to consider for the moment before deciding there are probably worse things than stumbling around in the dark to go take a leak in a dirty public bathroom. He could be stumbling to the bathroom in the dark all by himself and, while it's not exactly a scary idea, it's not nearly as appealing.

"Sure. May as well." Keith kicks off the sleeping bags and grunts when his feet get tangled up in the mess of blankets. He's immediately chilly and he wonders if Shiro's feeling cold as well. Shiro yanks his shoes into the tent for him and soon they're both crawling out into the cool night air. Keith shoves his cold hands into his pockets. It makes them feel somewhat warmer, but it doesn't make him yearn to hold Shiro's hand any less.

Shiro flips the switch on the flashlight and it flickers before leaving them with a steady source of light. It's not very big, but it suffices, allowing them to keep an eye on the trail that leads up to the bathrooms and preventing them from tripping over anything.

"It's kind of cold right now," Shiro says. Keith nods before remembering Shiro probably can't see it.

"Yeah."

He doesn't know what to say in response so he's thankful for the fact that Shiro has never needed much by way of conversation from him. He wishes they could talk a bit, though about what, he doesn't know. It's foreign enough for him to even want to talk so much in the first place. He's just never really seen the merit in trivial conversations like that.

But he likes talking to Shiro. By now, there’s a lot he knows about Shiro.

He wants to know more.

He likes listening to Shiro talk about—anything really. He loves when Shiro lights up talking about the stars and space, the fond look he gets when he talks about his family, the way he smiles when he’s reminiscing . . .

Keith is quite certain he could listen to Shiro talk about rocks and dirt and he’d still enjoy it because it’s Shiro.

When they arrive at the bathrooms, still lit up by the bright fluorescent ceiling lights, Shiro flicks off the flashlight and Keith has never been more relieved to be able to see two feet in front of himself.

Business is said and done in a matter of minutes and he only pretends to be frustrated when they're washing their hands and Shiro flicks water at him. He flicks some back.

“I already beat you in our splashing contest, Shirogane.”

“I know. That’s why I was trying to get revenge.”

“Tap water, my only weakness,” Keith says dryly.

“I knew I was onto something.” Shiro smiles and Keith allows a smile to curve his lips at that, too.

Wandering out of the bathrooms, Keith immediately misses the light. He watches Shiro pull the small flashlight out of his back pocket and flick it on. And then off and on again because there's _ no light _ . Shiro's eyebrows furrow as he hits it against his palm a few times. It's a futile gesture since it doesn't seem to make any difference. Keith tries as well when Shiro hands it to him. only to get similar results.

"This is just . . . great."

"I knew the batteries were dying," Shiro says, frowning. "We'll have to make do without it. Here."

Shiro holds his hand out to Keith and Keith stares at it dubiously, wondering what exactly Shiro is expecting of him.

Surely he isn't asking Keith to hold it. He's not lucky enough to have something he's been thinking about for most of the night suddenly be offered to him. What is with this cliche? He thought this stuff only happened in those stupid romcoms Lance and Hunk both liked to watch so much.

"Keith?" Shiro glances down to his hand and back up to Keith's face. "So we don't wander away from each other."

Hesitantly, as if he's expecting Shiro to pull his hand back and yell "psyche!", he takes Shiro's hand.

Shiro doesn't pull away.

Well, it's not as if small pranks like that had ever been Shiro's style.

"Oh good, now if I trip and fall I can drag you down with me," Keith snarks. Shiro only smiles at him.

"As if you'd trip." Shiro knows as well as Keith does that Keith is the opposite of clumsy.

"Anything could happen," Keith shrugs, but the trail isn't terribly uneven, so he knows Shiro's right. "Maybe I'll have to trip on purpose then."

"Then  _ I’ll  _ just have to catch you if you fall."

Keith sort of chokes and hopes that Shiro doesn't notice because you just—you can't just  _ say _ things like that.

"Yeah . . . you better," he manages and Shiro squeezes his hand. He wonders, a tad wildly, if this is what flirting is like as Shiro leads him down the path. He shakes his head at himself because that's ridiculous. Shiro wouldn’t flirt with him, he's just being friendly. It's not like either of them have had reservations about being in each other's personal space for a while now anyways. So this really doesn't mean anything, he reasons.

Still, as Shiro leads him down the trail, he can't resist savouring the experience. Shiro's holding his hand and it may never really happen again. Not like this.

His fingers just barely curve around the side of Shiro’s hand, big and warm around his cold hands.

Maybe for one night, Keith can let himself have at least this.

He won’t lose Shiro just because he’s struggling to keep the cap on his feelings. Just this one night, then it’s time to move on.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning isn’t particularly different from the last, the early morning hours finding the group still shaking off the drowsiness.

It’s normal when Keith crawls out of the tent with the most adorable bedhead Shiro’s ever seen—but he  _ might _ be biased.

It’s normal up until Keith breaks routine and sits across from him, as far away as he can be while remaining within the vicinity of the fire pit. Initially he feels confused, but he isn’t about to let himself get worked up over something like where Keith decides to sit. He can’t look into something that surely doesn’t mean anything, even if he prefers to have Keith to his right side, where he always ended up.

It’s really not a big deal. Shiro catches his attention, nodding in acknowledgement. “Morning, Sunshine.”

Keith averts his eyes and refuses to look back and it’s . . .

It’s the response he’d initially expected to get when he’d started teasingly using the term of endearment—awkward, unsure, possibly uncomfortable—but had never gotten.

Until now.

Shiro can’t help the mild concern that bubbles up to the surface. He isn’t used to being the source of Keith’s discomfort and he can only wonder what he did to cause it.

Just yesterday they’d been the same as always, laughing and joking and—Keith had smiled so much at him the past few days, that brilliant smile, he’s finding it hard to pinpoint what he did  _ wrong _ .

Is it the nickname? But Keith hadn’t expressed discomfort in response to it before.

He banishes the thought that Keith had been putting up a front the whole time as soon as it comes. He  _ knows _ Keith and knowing Keith means knowing he’s honest; always so straightforward and blunt. Knowing Keith means knowing his tells. He’s too familiar with Keith’s body language for Keith to hide when Shiro is actively looking.

All that, and Keith is an adorably terrible liar. Shiro has seen him try, watched the way he’d shifted and averted his gaze; sheepishly, guiltily, as if caught in a lie.Shiro is familiar with the furrow of Keith’s brow when he peers back up, knowing he’s as unconvincing as he sounds.

But there’s no time to dwell on that.

Shiro opens his mouth to ask him if there’s anything wrong, but the others interrupt them before he can get a word out. As it turns out, while he and Keith had been enjoying the warmth of the fire—while Shiro had been lost in thought—the others had come up with a plan for the day.

Allura announces that they’re heading over to the nearby hiking trails with an excitement that neither Lance nor Pidge can seem to match. A glance over to Hunk tells Shiro that he’s trying to be optimistic, but failing. Shiro is feeling pretty eager for it himself and he knows this is something Keith might enjoy too. He turns back to Keith, an enthusiastic remark on the tip of his tongue, but it never passes his lips. His smile just barely droops because Keith is still pointedly looking away from him.

It hurts, just a bit.

At the start of the trail, Hunk, Pidge and Lance bid their farewells. Shiro would laugh at the dramaticism with which they solemnly shake each other’s hands, if he weren’t so preoccupied with his worry.

"It's been nice knowing you," Hunk says, to which the other two nod. Lances claps Hunk and Pidge on the shoulders and nods at them. It’s maybe the most serious Shiro has seen Lance the whole trip.

Keith, from where he’s standing a bit away, is staring on bemusedly.

"You're hiking, not dying," he reminds the others. Lance waves a hand dismissively.

"Same difference."

"What are you waiting for you lazy lumps?" Allura calls from ahead.

"We better get going if we want to keep up with her," Shiro says. Habitually, he looks around to find Keith, before spotting him, already making his way up the trail. Shiro eyes the growing distance between them and wonders when the last time Keith ever felt this far away was.

With a chorus of groans, the others start to move as well and Shiro jerks into motion. He jogs to catch up with Keith before he can stop himself. It isn’t as if Keith completely ignores him, glancing up briefly when Shiro comes up next to him, and he doesn’t try to walk away or leave Shiro behind. It’s enough to give Shiro hope that whatever happened between them can still be fixed.

They don't say much as they walk, and it's not really abnormal, but Shiro feels the distance between them, gaping like a chasm. The silence isn't tense, but it's not comfortable either.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, now that they’re somewhat alone. The trio dawdle behind and Allura continues to trek on ahead. Keith looks at him before his gaze skitters away.

"No, nothing."

Shiro knows that isn’t true.

"Are you sure?"

"Just a bit tired, I guess."

That's not true either, but Shiro figures pushing will only get him so far.

"Well, I'm always up to talk if you need it," Shiro says, feeling more than a little helpless.

"Yeah, sure." It sounds like a dismissal and they lapse into silence once more. It’s vaguely reminiscent to the walk they’d gone on that first day; quiet, save for the dirt crunching beneath their steady footsteps.

Shiro tries to stir up a bit of conversation here and there, but all attempts fall flat, met with short responses or hums of acknowledgement. It’s almost a relief when the trail lines itself up beside a river and they reach the waterfall at the end.

“I guess I won’t be swimming in this river either,” Shiro jokes. “Though the waterfall might make a nice shower.”

Keith glances between him and the water rushing down from above and shrugs, studying the rocks beneath his feet. “Maybe.”

Shiro’s smile falters and he lets his own gaze drop towards the ground as well. Just a bit in front of him, close enough to nudge with a toe, lies a smooth, flat stone. He bends to pick it up without giving the action much thought, turning it over in his hand. The river isn’t as calm as he prefers, but he tries anyways, flinging the rock through the air. Predictably it lands into the water with a  _ plunk _ , sinking. Somehow, it feels fitting.

He trails his gaze back up to the waterfall and watches the way the water crashes down. Had Keith noticed his ogling at the pool the other day? But then it wouldn’t explain the ease of last night—

Last night.

Suddenly something clicks and Shiro frowns. He'd thought that they'd both had a good night. The flirting had been spontaneous, lacking the inhibitions and filters of a more alert mind. It had seemed well-received though—maybe even mutual. He remembers falling asleep feeling like he’d just been soaring.

Keith had laughed with him and smiled and he'd always been a poor liar, but maybe . . .

Shiro supposes it wasn’t as well-received as he’d thought, if this was the result. And if Keith could pretend about this . . . maybe he’d pretended regarding the nickname too. Maybe . . .

Maybe Shiro doesn’t know Keith as well as he’d believed.

Shiro glances at Keith again and his heart sinks into his stomach. It’s as if they're in completely different places, in spite of the fact that physically, Keith is just barely out of arms-length. Keith feels miles away and yeah, maybe he'd been mistaken after all.

The feeling of Keith's hand in his, grip warm and tight, comes to mind. Shiro had felt the differences between their hands with one of his own—knows, now, that if he were to hold Keith’s hand, Keith’s fingers would just barely curl around the side of his palm. It’s a fond memory, but he'd gladly forget it if it meant they'd be okay again. The awkwardness—the discomfort—is almost suffocating in how wrong it feels.

He can't know for certain what Keith's thoughts on the night prior are, but he knows they need to fix this. He isn’t about to let his feelings create this divide between them.

A public hiking trail is hardly the place for such a conversation, though, and Keith doesn't seem to want to talk much anyways, so Shiro resolves to talk to him later.

They'll make this right, somehow.


	8. Chapter 8

The fire crackles and it sounds loud in the quiet of the night. The others had retired to their tents a while ago, leaving Keith alone with his thoughts.

Shiro’s probably asleep by now.

He thinks about putting out the fire and heading to bed as well, but, looking up at the stars, he feels reluctant to move just yet. He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and pulls his legs up onto the camping chair, wrapping his arms around them.

It’s their last night and he’s willing to admit there are a few things he’ll miss; the peace, the clean air, the clear night sky. Shiro had been right. He _had_ enjoyed the trip. The past day had been tense, though he really only has himself to blame for that.

It’s for the best, he reminds himself.

A faint zipping sound behind him breaks him from his train of thought and he looks over his shoulder to investigate.

“Shiro?” He watches the man in question crawl out of their tent, clutching a blanket and yanking his shoes back on.

“Hey,” Shiro greets.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Well, there’s something I need to take care of first.” Shiro pauses. “Something _we_ need to take care of.”

Shiro ambles over and claims the empty chair next to him. Keith figures that he should’ve known Shiro would want to talk.

“You were kind of distant today,” Shiro comments. Keith glances over at him, but Shiro tilts his head back, as if addressing the sky. “If I . . . if I did something to make you uncomfortable—”

“No! No . . . you didn’t,” Keith promises. Because Shiro _hasn’t_ done anything wrong. It’s his own fault; his own stupid feelings.

“Then why?” Shiro meets Keith’s gaze and Keith can see the hurt behind those steely, grey eyes. His stomach bottoms out with the knowledge that he put that there.

“Sorry,” Keith says, looking away. Because he _is_ sorry.

“If there’s something wrong, you _know_ I’m here for you.”

“But you can’t fix this, Shiro!” Keith snaps. Immediately regretting it, he gentles his tone. “It’s me. I—”

Keith takes a shuddering breath. He’s always thought that it was a waste of time to beat around the bush, but knowing the confession he’s about to make could change everything is scarier than he’d anticipated.

But he’d already messed up anyway.

“I like you.” Keith frowns up at the stars. “Or maybe I’m in love with you. Sorry I pulled away, I didn’t mean to make it seem like your fault.”

There’s a small, almost sharp intake of breath and, when Keith risks a look at Shiro, he finds surprise written in wide eyes, raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips.

“So why did you?” There’s no accusation in Shiro’s tone, only confusion, and Keith wonders what he did to deserve someone as good as Shiro.

“I guess it got too hard to pretend that I don’t want more. I know it’s selfish and I could’ve handled it better. But you don’t feel the same, so I thought . . . time to move on,” Keith says. He gives a wry smile, looking at Shiro out of the corner of his eye. “It’s really hard to move on when I’m always right beside you.”

“What? Keith—” Shiro starts, only to be abruptly cut off.

“It’s okay that you don’t want me back.” Keith pauses. “I’m trying to be okay with that. I just didn’t want to drive you away, but I guess I sort of did anyway.”

Keith wonders if Shiro’s feeling as tense as he is, waiting for Shiro to tell him he’s flattered, but sorry. Waiting for Shiro to confirm that he doesn’t feel the same.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shiro says instead.

“What?” Keith blinks. He looks up from the flickering flames and back towards the starlit sky, staring at the moon. It’s big and bright and Keith has never called it beautiful before, but he supposes Shiro isn’t wrong. “I guess so?”

Shiro laughs beside him, drawing Keith’s attention back. He wonders if he’s imagining the nervousness beneath it.

“What’s so funny?” Keith asks, brows furrowed in confusion. Shiro shifts his chair closer and angles himself to face Keith better. He hesitates before reaching to smooth out the knot of Keith’s brows with a gentle thumb.

“It means I love you,” Shiro says, hand coming down to cup Keith’s cheek. A thumb caresses the skin over his cheekbone, softly, reverently, as if Shiro is still afraid that Keith will pull away.

Keith thinks he stops breathing, but he stays put.

“What?”

“Keith, _I_ never said I didn’t love you. I guess I didn’t really say anything at all, though, huh?” Shiro laughs softly. “I didn’t think you liked me back either.”

“Why wouldn’t I like you back?”

Shiro shrugs. “Why wouldn’t _I_ like _you_ back?”

Keith opens his mouth to respond to that, but Shiro hushes him.

“It’s a rhetorical question. I like you no matter what.”

“I’m so stupid,” Keith says, a tad breathless.

“We’ve both been a little stupid,” Shiro says, grinning. “And very blind.” Keith is almost disappointed when Shiro moves the hand on his cheek, resting it on the arm of Keith’s chair instead.

Flustered under the fondness of Shiro’s gaze, Keith looks back up at the sky. The stars shine brightly in the distance and a line of light streaks across deep blue. He’s about to ask if Shiro saw it, but he’s interrupted by the press of lips against his cheek. It’s fleeting and the kiss is over as soon as it begins, but it sends a warmth spiraling through him that Keith knows the fire isn’t responsible for. He touches his cheek, turning to Shiro, surprised.

Keith can see the flush beneath Shiro’s cheeks, face illuminated by the firelight.

“What was that for?”

“I just felt like it,” Shiro says, a touch nervous.

“If—” Keith feels himself blush harder. “If you’re gonna kiss me then do it properly.”

At least it gets Shiro to laugh.

“Very sorry,” Shiro says with a smile, reaching to cup Keith’s cheek again. He leans in and pauses, just centimetres away. Keith can feel Shiro’s breath, warm puffs against his lips, and throws caution to the wind. He closes the distance.

The fire crackles, the camp snoozes and Shiro and Keith share their first kiss beneath the star-filled sky.


	9. Chapter 9

When Keith wakes up the next morning, he feels warm. Except for his feet—they feel kind of icy. He snuggles further against the source of warmth before he registers the heavy arm thrown around him and the rise and fall of Shiro’s chest. He doesn’t remember falling asleep like this. He blinks open heavy eyes and tries to peer up, finding he can’t see much from where he’s tucked beneath Shiro’s chin.

Shiro’s sleeping bag has been shoved down to his hips and Keith wonders if Shiro’s cold at all. He drags the blankets up and over Shiro’s shoulders, nuzzling into the fabric of Shiro’s t-shirt with a yawn and closing his eyes once more.

Later, Keith wakes up to the feeling of nearby movement.

“Shiro?” he mumbles. The movement ceases and Keith opens a bleary eye. Shiro is leaning on his elbow, as if he’d been in the middle of getting up. Keith realizes belatedly that Shiro’s arm is beneath his head.

“I was trying not to wake you up,” Shiro says, smiling a bit helplessly. “Morning, Sunshine.”

Keith blinks up at Shiro before feeling heat flood his cheeks. Now that Keith knows Shiro means it in the way Keith’s alway wanted him to mean it, it’s all the more embarrassing. Still, quiet happiness settles in his belly and he hides his smile in Shiro’s arm.

Shiro laughs beside him.

“Hey, Sweetheart, as nice as this is,” Shiro starts, “I can feel my arm falling asleep. Mind if I take it back?”

Keith pushes himself up off Shiro’s arm, if only out of surprise.

“You called me  _ sweetheart _ ,” he says obviously. Shiro’s cheeks flare red.

“Is—is that okay? It just came out, but I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to,” Shiro stammers out. Keith thinks it’s cute.

“I like it,” he admits, sitting back and looking away so that Shiro can’t see him blush. The blankets have fallen around his hips and he pulls them back up around his shoulders. He’s feeling inexplicably self-conscious with their new relationship status, but when Shiro presses a chaste kiss to his temple and draws back, nervous. Keith is glad he’s not the only one.

“I like your bed hair,” Shiro says.

“Wha—” Keith scowls, pressing a hand to his head and trying to flatten the flyaway strands. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” Shiro admits. “I was just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Keith shuffles towards their bags and grabs a hoodie, pulling it on and yanking the hood over his unruly hair. “Stop thinking about it.”

He hears Shiro laughing behind him as he grabs his shoes and clambers out of the tent.

Keith shoves his hands into his pockets and shuffles over to the fire pit where the others are already seated. It’s warm there and Keith’s mind supplies him with the reminder that Shiro had also been warm.

This is new for him. He didn’t think it would be possible to feel so flustered in front of someone he’s so used to, but he supposes that this  _ is _ a new side to their relationship—something for them to navigate together.

He’s startled from his thoughts when fingers brush against his and Shiro’s pinky hooks around his. He unhooks them, but hurries to twine their fingers together instead. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shiro smile and he feels the way Shiro squeezes his hand.

“What have we got here?” Shiro asks, peering down at the fire pit. The others have brought the marshmallows back out and speared a few on some sticks. Keith thinks it’s kind of strange to be roasting marshmallows during daylight.

“We’re making s’mores,” Pidge says, holding up graham crackers and chocolate bars.

“It’s our last day here,” Hunk says. “S’mores are a camping  _ tradition _ .”

“Can’t argue with that,” Shiro says. He accepts a s’more from Hunk when it’s handed to him and, hand still linked, Keith lets himself be led towards one of the picnic tables.

“Hunk roasts marshmallows better than you do,” Keith says, sitting across from Shiro.

“Mine fell in the fire!” Shiro pouts. “That’s hardly anything to base my marshmallow roasting skills on!”

“ _ Marshmallow roasting skills _ ,” Keith repeats with a snort. “You’re dorky.”

“But you love me anyways,” Shiro mumbles around a sticky bite. It comes out casually, and it’s a testament to how close they’ve always been. Maybe it’s considered early in the relationship for things like love confessions, but it doesn’t feel wrong. Keith does love Shiro, they’ve known each other long enough for that to be a certainty. Shiro is like family to him.

Keith can’t help his smile. “I hate that you’re right about that.”

Shiro swallows a sticky bite and smiles before adopting a mischievous look that makes Keith narrow his eyes.

“But you know,” Shiro starts.

“Shiro,” Keith says, tone half warning because he  _ knows _ that look on Shiro’s face.

“I love you  _ s’more _ .”

Keith groans and Shiro bursts into laughter, shoulders shaking and grinning widely.

“You’re such a nerd,” Keith says, nudging Shiro’s foot beneath the table. “I can’t believe you.”

As the morning progresses, Keith is glad to fall back into the typical ease of his and Shiro’s relationship. It’s like things are the same, but different, and he wonders how neither of them had ever picked up on each other’s feelings before. But things always seem more obvious after you’re made aware of them.

They take down their tent and Shiro, seemingly emboldened, smacks him gently on the ass with the tent pole. He knows it wasn’t an accident this time, because when Keith looks over at him accusingly, Shiro only grins unapologetically.

Lance groans from nearby and at first Keith thinks it’s because he and Shiro managed to take their tent down faster. He’s proven wrong when Lance laments the fact that this is a  _ thing _ now and pleads for them to tone down their “couple-y-ness.”

Soon, the tents are taken down, luggage is loaded into the van, and they all find themselves buckling in and ready to leave.

Shiro takes his hand again when they’ve gotten settled in the back seats and says, “I told you, you’d like it.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You were right. Happy?”

“That you’re here? Yeah.

Keith rolls his eyes and nudges Shiro with his shoulder before squeezing his hand.

He’s definitely looking forward to next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats all!  
> thanks for reading til the end, i hope you enjoyed! <3


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